One evening, I woke up in a sudden. The light noise of the white fluorescent light buzzed in my ear as my eyes adjusted to the clinical look of the brightly-lit room. Home, I thought.

Not exactly. The bed was hard. It didn’t bounce in that way that would make a child inclined to jump on it. The blanket was a large, thin, boring affair that did nothing as far as warmth was concerned. The room was the same cold that made your bones ache on a winter morning. As my eyes came into focus, I took the room in. Definitely not home. It was a low-hung ceiling, barely higher than the wooden cabinet in the corner of the room. Next to the cabinet, right in front of me, was a mirror with a small but noticeable black spot in its top left corner. To its right, a little hallway stretched out that I couldn’t see the end of yet. Then there was my bed and I. “Where am I?”

You would think in a situation like this, I’d feel panic. Maybe I’d feel scared. I’d maybe reach for my phone (where is my phone…?) and call the police. I didn’t feel any of those things. I felt curious. I didn’t really remember how I got here. Even stranger, I don’t recall caring how I had gotten in that room.

I lifted my body up in one swift motion and spun myself onto the side, slipped my slippers on, and walked over in the direction of the hallway, pausing at the mirror. My beard is still outlined well, I’ll probably need to shave in a couple of days. Im wearing blue jeans, black shoes, and a beige T-shirt, which is all well (but why was I asleep in these clothes…?).

Hm. So the room is very much like a hotel room. Maybe not as nice as a hotel room. But it feels like one. The hallway was very short, ending with what was probably an exit. The door to my right was a bathroom. All my things were there. My toothbrush, soaps, and so on, and behind me now was a window overlooking a street that was not familiar to me at all.

Besides the noise of the fluorescent lights, the air-conditioning, and the sound of my feet shuffling me into the hallway, there was a dead silence all around. No children crying in neighboring apartments (I’m the only door on this floor actually, let’s see where these stairs go), no cars cruising by in the streets below, no drafts… Nothing. It’s all strange because the building seems to have been very lived-in. The stair railings were oily from years of greasy hands, no doubt, the walls had lost paint, been drawn on, and had the black circles of dying cigarettes, and the stairwell smelled of a thousand deep-fried meals.

At the bottom of the stairs, I walked through the front aluminum doors and out onto the street. The cold and silent air was gentle, barely making its presence known. The street was not level, moving downwards from left to right. On either side were parked cars that were wet from condensation. The cars looked like they hadn’t been touched in a while. There was not a single person to be seen anywhere.

I began to feel very anxious, probably even afraid. Waking up in this strange building on a street I’d never seen and still not being able to find a single other person? Something is very wrong.

I proceeded out onto the street and turned left, pushing myself a little more than I should against the slanted road. A minute went by, maybe 5, I’m not sure. Slowly, the road began to plateau and curve again downwards. The road seemed to be built on uneven land, I guess.

As I descended down the road, I came at an intersection. The lights were red in all four directions, with the exception of one green light to turn right. I looked to my right and saw a brightly-lit street with the warm welcoming glow of shops on either side. No, there was nobody there. I followed the traffic light and peered into every shop. Nobody was in any of the shops. Can I go into one of these shops?

The whole time I was walking, it began to seem normal to me that this piece of city was so empty. I still felt a bit cautious but with nobody else in sight, there was no real point in panicking. I guess if you spend enough time in a strange reality, your mind will register the strange reality as now normal and anything different as strange. My mind and general emotional core adjusted to this new reality and I pushed any lingering questions down in the hopes of answering them later. I mean, it doesn’t seem like anyone is going to bother me. And I’m hungry, maybe I can have some ice cream from over there.

A little bell announced my entrance into the ice cream shop. No one greeted me but the familiar cold, creamy smell enticed me. I walked around to where the employee would normally stand and found the scoops and paper cups. Stracciatella is my favorite ice cream flavor so I was generous with the 3 scoops I gave myself. After giving myself a napkin and a plastic spoon, I walked over to the door and it was locked. What the hell? My confusion was quickly interrupted with a loud dingggg. I turned around and saw the green lights of the cash box flashing a number at me. 24.50. Of course, I need to pay. But who am I paying? I started to feel very scared and my body quickly began to sweat.

What am I supposed to do? Do I just pay anything? Who operated this machine? How does it know that I took the ice cream… How does it know I need to pay… Who or what locked the door…? I slowly walked over to the register and looked down. There was already some money inside from some previous transaction, no doubt. So I guess there are others here. Maybe if I just… I reached into my back pocket and found some change: exactly 24.50. Of course. I put the 20 with the twenties and dropped the coins with the coins. Shhhwinggg. The register closed itself and went silent. I stood there for what must have been 10 minutes. The door is definitely open now. I really didn’t want to check if that was true, though. But I had to go somewhere. I needed to find someone. I needed answers. I slowly turned around, expecting to see some kind of person just standing, waiting, and willing to speak, but of course I found nobody. I walked over to the door and pulled it open…

Back on the street, I walked along in the same direction and I was clearly moving away from the market as the street turned back into quiet and dark. The road ahead was as empty as it had been the whole night. I looked down, pulled some ice cream out of the cup with my spoon and looked up again to see a tall woman standing about 10 meters in front of me. Oh my God. I stood dead in my tracks. A breeze began to pick up, but she didn’t move. Her clothes didn’t flow with the wind. Her hair hung dead on either side of her face. Her face. Are her eyes ope- are those black eyes? What is she holding? Who gives a shit, I’m going home. I turn around so quickly, ready to run for dear life. I couldn’t register anything around me except that she was standing there, even closer. Maybe 5 meters now. She’s looking (Is she looking?!) right at me. I turn around again and begin running for my life. I can’t see anyt- Thud. I tripped on myself. I’m on the floor. My feet are in front of- Those aren’t my feet. I look up and there she is… Looking ahead into the abyss, holding a little mound of cloth.

What do I do? Oh my God, where am I? Who is this? Can I stand up? Please wake up. Ahmed, wake up, this isn’t real. This can’t be real, this isn’t your life. Stop this now please. Please, Ahmed, please, wake up, where am I, what am I doing, who is this person?

I’m crying, no: Sobbing my heart out as I began to stand up, knowing that now I must face this woman. I must speak to her. It is what must happen next. She will follow me, I know she will. I try to make out who she is. She looks like someone I know, someone vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite tell who. Her black eyes and dead figure continue to terrify me. A million thoughts are racing through my mind but I know that I can’t satisfy my loudest one: Run. I look down at the mound of cloth and I see a baby. A baby. The lady’s arms begin to extend, gesturing me to receive the baby. I look up and see a tortured face, a pleading face, begging me to receive the child. I lift my arms, I receive the child, and I am overcome with fear, pain, panic, I can feel sweat pour down my body, I open my eyes, and see the chandelier in my comfortable room, but the baby, I must care for the baby, I look down and see that there is no baby, only my room in my home in the real world, and I hear the burning ring of an alarm clock begging me to begin another normal day.

End.